It's like you never left,
the way the air still smells
of that cheap dollar store cologne
and of stale Marlboros and whiskey.
Your phantom hands ran through my hair
and ghostly lips sunk into my neck
and I could not help to think I heard you say
"oh honey, oh, how I've missed you."
But all the while my eyes were closed
I hadn't realized something:
that the window lay cracked wide open
and the wind blew out the candle flame.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
It's like you never left,
the way the air still smells
of that cheap dollar store cologne
and of stale Marlboros and whiskey.
Your phantom hands ran through my hair
and ghostly lips sunk into my neck
and I could not help to think I heard you say
"oh honey, oh, how I've missed you."
But all the while my eyes were closed
I hadn't realized something:
that the window lay cracked wide open
and the wind blew out the candle flame.
Request permission to use this poem